


all the misfits and the losers

by julietophelia



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jughead being melodramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23889412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julietophelia/pseuds/julietophelia
Summary: He’d just gotten home to tell Betty about the tape when she’d hit him with a worse blow than a rock. She couldn’t sleep next to him without telling him the truth, she’d said. Couldn’t stand another night with him, the bitter part of him thought. Couldn’t even wait to dump him before jumping Archie’s bones.post 4x17
Relationships: Jughead Jones & Charles Smith, Jughead Jones & Toni Topaz, Jughead Jones/Toni Topaz
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	all the misfits and the losers

His emotions were all mixed up these days, since he came back from the dead. He got angry at the smallest things, felt numb when he should react. There were tears in Betty’s eyes when he walked out the door. He’d felt nothing.

That must be why she’d done it. She could tell there was something wrong with him. Betty had gone through hell to save him, and all she’d brought back was a paper shroud. A dead end, she’d called him. He couldn’t really blame her for wanting to jump ship.

He was drifting without much thought or purpose. Muscle memory and habit brought him to Pop’s. He looked up at the roof where The Archies had performed a few hours earlier, for the very first and last time.

Pop’s was slow this late at night, but seldom empty. Veronica walked past the door, coffee pot in hand, to offer refills to a handful of truckers who’d stopped in for a brief respite. He wondered if she knew yet. He wondered if he should tell her. She deserved to hear it from Archie, at the very least, he decided. Archie still deserved the chance to tell her, even now. Maybe he was just being a coward.

His eyes scanned past empty booths and stopped at the second last on the right, where Toni was sitting, sipping a strawberry milkshake. The neon lights played on her hair, painting her in bright candy colors. He wished he had his camera.

Toni, that’s who he needed to talk to. To talk, sure. Was that all he wanted from her? It was hard not to think of that night they’d spent together, when he’d so naively thought he’d lived through the worst that could possibly happen. She was the only thing that had made him feel like he was going to be alright. She was the first person other than Betty who’d ever wanted him. He felt ashamed. Toni wasn't some standby rebound hookup. He knew her better than that. She meant more to him than that.

He turned and strode away from the diner, back into the dark.

“Jug?” Toni called out behind him.

He froze, caught.

“Jug!” She caught up to him. “You scared me for a second. I saw someone standing just outside, and before I recognized you I thought—”

His stomach turned. He saw not-Betty bringing the rock down on his head, not-him. The man had trembled, his arms held, or tied, behind his back. It might have just been an act, a pantomime to freak him out. It might not.

“I’m so sorry, Toni. I shouldn’t be here.”

“No, I didn’t mean—” Toni touched his arm. “Why don’t you stop lurking and come inside? The guys will be here soon. When was the last time the four of us hung out?”

He felt like a damn fool. He’d resisted the people he belonged with for so long. All those times he’d defended Archie and Betty to them. He’d felt so guilty for just talking to Toni, for feeling like he’d found a home. He’d wanted to be loyal.

“I can’t stay.”

“What’s bad enough to keep you away from Pop’s?”

He’d just gotten home to tell Betty about the tape when she’d hit him with a worse blow than a rock. She couldn’t sleep next to him without telling him the truth, she’d said. Couldn’t stand another night with him, the bitter part of him thought. Couldn’t even wait to dump him before jumping Archie’s bones.

“Betty and I broke up.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You were right about, well, basically everything.”

“I didn’t want to be.”

She hugged him. He buried his nose in her cotton candy hair. He should go before he said something stupid. He wanted to kiss her.

“You should get somewhere safe.”

Toni arched an eyebrow. “So should you.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m really glad we’re friends.”

...

Jughead pulled down the heavy door with a satisfying clunk and twisted the wheel to seal himself inside. His steps echoed down the short tunnel. Ironically, this was one of the least safe places he could be. If the voyeur knew about what happened that night in the woods, he or she almost certainly knew about the bunker. He was alone, in the middle of the woods, with thick metal walls blocking cell reception. This was the choice someone made in a horror movie right before they died. He wasn’t sure how much he cared.

He sunk down on the cot and scrubbed his hands over his face. The tape, not-Betty and not-Jughead, was still in the player from when he’d fled. He shouldn’t have let it out of his sight, but it hadn’t even occurred to him to bring the evidence. In the moment, he’d just wanted to get as far away from it as possible. Bad protocol. Stupid.

He lay down and closed his eyes for a minute, until the distant squeal of the hatch opening shocked him out his near-sleep. Switchblade in hand, he crept to the end of the tunnel.

“Jughead?” a familiar voice called. “If you’re down there, don’t stab me or anything, okay?”

“How did you know?”

Charles came into view, shiny dress shoes first. Always dressed up, even when he didn’t need to be. Betty had called it creepy once, listing off reasons not to trust him, but Jughead got it. Charles had grown up like him, worse even. Maybe he felt like he had to prove something. His half-brother reached the ground and turned to face him.

“Couldn’t blame you for being freaked out, under the circumstances.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Your dad—Dad was worried about you. When you weren’t at Pop’s and you didn’t answer your phone, I guessed you were underground.”

He smiled. It was still hard to slot Charles into his mental reality. His big brother who worked for the FBI. A Jones who’d already made something of himself. Maybe it was just the Forsythe part that was cursed.

“I don't know what happened with Betty, but if you want to talk—” Charles trailed off awkwardly.

“It’s not important right now. You need to see this.”

He snatched up the tape and held it out at arm’s length. Charles took it with a raised eyebrow. Jughead stood behind the tv while Charles put the tape into the VHS player, watching his brother’s face instead of the video. He didn’t need to see it again. Charles winced at those sickening, too real crunches of stone on skull, and his jaw dropped when the tape finished.

“Jesus. This is faster than I expected them to escalate.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know. But you definitely shouldn’t be down here alone. This is targeted.”

“No shit,” he snapped. Charles gave him a look. “I really can’t go home tonight.”

Charles sighed. “Well, I'm not going to drag you by the collar. I could stay here.”

“Thank you.”

Charles nodded. “Just get some sleep. I’ll tell FP.”

He lay down on the narrow cot and pulled the sheet over himself. Charles’ footsteps faded away as he walked down the tunnel, up the ladder. Silence for a minute, maybe two, then footsteps growing closer, like a tape played in reverse.

A single desk lamp and the old tv were the only light left in the room. Charles picked out another tape from the pile and played it. He leaned forward, watching the screen intently. Just before Jughead finally drifted off to sleep, he noticed it was the tape of their house.


End file.
